


Time to speak

by bittycanbake (hit_the_books)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 2019-2020 NHL Season, COVID-19, Coronavirus, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Isolation, It's Three Years After Eric Graduated, Light Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/bittycanbake
Summary: Jack is a man of few words, until he's forced into isolation just like every other player in the NHL. The coronavirus has shut down the season and no one's coping well.Certainly not all the people who help the Falconers' behind the scenes at the arena in Providence.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 35
Kudos: 172





	Time to speak

**Author's Note:**

> As a hockey and Check, Please! fan I wanted to bring together a story that shows people coming together to help those who aren't as well off as them. With the current NHL season put on hold, I wanted to play through how Jack would be affected and act while in isolation due to avoiding COVID-19.
> 
> I was especially inspired after seeing this story on [The Athletic (paywall)](https://theathletic.com/1672685/2020/03/12/as-the-nba-and-nhl-go-on-hiatus-so-do-paychecks-for-those-behind-the-scenes/).
> 
> Yes, the position of the Providence Falconers is mimicking the Boston Bruins' current league standings. I make no apologies for this.
> 
> Thanks to fandom pals who helped me with figuring out where these two would be with their lives if I set it in canon time. And thanks to them for reassurring me that I could write this in the first place.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story.

“We just wait and see,” Jack said into his cell.

Tater grumbled something in Russian that Jack couldn’t quite catch, but he thought he understood the sentiment. _We’re on a roll. What about the Play-Offs? What about everyone?_ Those were the same questions that kept going on around and around in Jack’s head and just about every other teammate who’d made a phone call to him since the season had been put on pause like some grotesque pause screen on Netlifx, where the actors are in a less than flattering milieu.

The Falconers were going to the Play-Offs, no matter what happened with COVID-19. But if the last few weeks of the regular season were delayed, Jack worried about what would happen with all the energy the team had built up. They’d lost in the Stanley Cup Final during the 2018-19 season. And now they were top of the division and the entire league, 85% of the season under their skates. They were ready to keep winning.

None on the team were that worried about the dip in pay they were all going to get, because of the decrease in revenue for the season. Jack had made a point as captain, to make sure everyone had decent access to financial planners, along with the guidance they could get through the players’ association.

“I hate waiting, Zimboni,” Tater griped.

And it wasn’t a normal kind of waiting anyway. Like when you have an injury from regular season play and you have to take it easy, recuperate, but you can still go out and see your friends and family. Go to games, but sit in with the team families and guests—this was nothing like that. No one was seeing anyone.

“We’ll be at the Play-Offs before you know it… If you’re feeling cooped up, maybe you can try that new routine George got the trainers to walk us through before Arizona? Yeah? And then try some meditation after,” Jack offered, voice a little strained.

“Okay… Thank you, Zimboni.”

“Any time, Tater.”

The call ended.

That was Jack’s sixth phone call like this that morning. George had schooled him on what to say, also over the phone. When the season was put on hold, they’d all been phoned by the team staff, telling them to not come in that day and see the announcement from the NHL, and then check their team emails to see full instructions from the team management on what they had to do.

Isolate. Keep up fitness. Eat and hydrate properly. Stay home. Talk to PR before talking to the press.

At least Jack was able to be with Eric. Some of his teammates didn’t have family they could be with or had had to isolate from their own family.

Eric had been working from home for the past two weeks. He was a member of a workhub in Providence proper, but the space owners had seen the writing on the wall and asked everyone to stop coming before the WHO declared a pandemic. With a new cook book on the way, Eric had been busy and focused and limiting his contact due to deadlines. Though now even his publisher was giving him some leeway, because they wouldn’t be able to tour like they’d been planning and printing could be put back a bit.

Jack still marveled at the focus Eric could achieve now. It was a different thing to what he’d been like on his final thesis in college, some three years prior. _Though perhaps it’s because this is all about baking,_ Jack theorized, heading over to the kitchen in their apartment. They had supplies, but Eric always kept things well-stocked. Running out of flour or shortening would of course be considered an apocalyptic event.

Personally, Jack was just glad the store they used had switched to online orders only during the pandemic and was being sensible about how it sold to everyone. But not everyone could afford shop at places like that and it worried Jack about the people he relied on who weren’t so well off.

Setting his cell on the counter, Jack picked a cleaning wipe out of a pack and wiped his cell down and then went over to the sink and washed his hands. Done, Jack started for the refrigerator. Distantly, he could hear Eric’s fingers dancing furiously over his keyboard. If he’d gone and found Eric in his writing nook in the living room, he would have found him with his earphones in and his tongue stuck between his teeth, Beyoncé playing his earphones.

“Siri, call George,” Jack ordered his cell.

It took several rings for the call to be picked up, and Jack was part way to finding everything he wanted in his morning smoothie. Kale. Raspberries and kiwi. He switched to speaker and pulled a chopping board and knife towards him.

“Hey Jack. Not got cabin fever already, have you?” George joked.

“No, no. Just, I’ve,” Jack tried to decide for a beat if he should press on with his idea and then continued, “had an idea.”

“An idea?”

“Yeah. I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I’m worried about the staff at the arena, George. They’re not getting paid. I know the league said to pay us players all as normal. And we’ll be paying some of that back. And people like you are salaried. But…” Jack trailed off. He was going to have to start calling around. It was going to be a big ask.

“But?” George pressed.

“But could we maybe, perhaps… Would it be okay if I asked the guys if they wanted to donate money to help with paychecks, for the arena staff? And anyone else behind the scenes who isn’t getting paid at the moment?” Jack set his knife down, heart racing a little. It was a big thing he was asking, but he was sure it would help a lot of good people.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” George asked.

“They’re our family too. I know Alexa at ticketing has a side gig, like, but that isn’t enough. Many of them live paycheck to paycheck.” Jack let out a long breath and tried to relax. He was tensing up. He knew he was a man of few words, but he couldn’t stand seeing other people suffer. “They need our help.”

“Well, okay. How you going to do this?”

“I’ll call around first and then we can go from there.”

“You know we’re going to have to make a statement.”

Jack had an idea. “Maybe Bitty would help me record a video? We could release that? If everyone agrees.”

“Sounds good. Give me a call once you’ve got enough of the guys on board.”

“Right. Thanks, George.”

“Of course. My pleasure. Speak soon.”

Just as the call ended, Eric stepped into the kitchen. “We’re filming what?”

Jack jumped and then let out a small nervous giggle before composing himself. His eyes swept over Eric’s comfy sweats and too-big-for-him borrowed Falcs tee. “Hopefully, the Falcs will be making sure no one on _our team_ loses out while the season is paused.”

Eric walked past Jack and went to the sink. He washed his hands as he talked. “Are you guys donating money to help keep everyone being paid?”

“That’s the idea.”

Eric finished washing his hands and came up to Jack from behind, resting a hand on the small of Jack’s back while giving Jack a kiss on his right cheek. The contact spread warmth through Jack, making his heart gently ease back towards a normal rhythm.

“Well, do you need any help making those calls?” Eric smiled at Jack.

He smiled back and pulled Eric into his arms. “Think you can tackle the Bittle fanclub?”

“Hey, no fair! That’s the whole team!” Eric protested.

“I can’t help it if you constantly bribe my teammates with baked goods. Allegiances will be formed,” Jack said.

“Wait a minute, was that a joke?”

Jack blushed and ducked his head. “Okay, okay. How about we call them together? Maybe see if we can get a couple of group chats going?”

“I can live with that.”

Meeting Eric’s gaze again, Jack leaned forward and pressed their lips together. The kiss was more than chaste and sent a rush of heat through Jack that reminded him that there were worse ways to be stuck at home. Pulling back, he stroked a hand through Eric’s hair, making him sigh and lean into the touch.

“I’ll make me a smoothie, and you a coffee. You can get on the group chat and see who we can round up for the first call.”

“Deal.”

Once Jack was finished up in the kitchen, he joined Eric in the living room. They took it in turns to hold Jack’s phone as they cycled through several group calls to fit everyone in across FaceTime and WhatsApp. In all it took two hours to reach and talk with everyone. And Jack was delighted to learn that they all wanted to do their part to help. The call with George afterwards gave them their next steps and the final go ahead for Jack to record a video for the press. George had set into motion getting the message out to arena staff ahead of the press.

Set up in Eric’s studio that occupied what was once a bedroom, Jack wore a Falconers’ hoodie with a pair of stonewashed jeans, and had made sure his hair was combed through. There was no make up. They wanted everything to look as natural as possible, so that people would see this was a genuine act of kindness.

“Five, four…” Eric started to count down and then silently mouthed the rest until it was time for Jack to speak.

So he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Kudos and comments appreciated if they're not talking about just COVID-19 and what's happening in RL. Comment moderation has been turned on post publishing, because of this. Keep your Facebook rants away from here.
> 
> You can find me on Pillowfort at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://www.pillowfort.social/dreamsfromthebunker), Dreamwidth at [hit_the_books](https://hit-the-books.dreamwidth.org/), Tumblr at [hitthebooksposts](https://hitthebooksposts.tumblr.com/).


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